Inamorata
7.

Collecting your Pokemon from the nurse, you release each of them to make sure they're healthy and stable, before returning them to their comfort. It is weird that less than twelve hours ago, you had been in a deep state of misery; puzzled over where you stand, and whether those you considered friends really were friends.

While you have reconciled most of your troubles––in ways you never would have imagined––issues still lie. It still remains your goal to discover where the rest of Grey's labs are located, but she isn't going to admit to anything. Not until she has Cyrus, for whatever reason that might be. Either way, you will get her talking.

A little over an hour ago, Cynthia had to depart from you as she was required back at the Pokemon League. There are rumours of a potential competitor, and being as passionate as she is, she could not refuse.

Plenty of times the two of you have seperated and then bumped into each other again. Only now, her absence hurts.

Leaving the Pokemon Centre, you're half distracted and you don't notice the older gentleman seated on a bench close by. You're busy thinking about the previous evening, and the morning afterwards. The picture Ho-Oh left behind, Cynthia's sweet kisses, how she held you when the nightmares started to prey on your mind.

It all has you dumbfounded; you're flustered at the memory.

Yet the moment you see Cyrus on the bench, the image of her disappears immediately. He is watching you, leaning back, a strange smile on his face. Cyrus doesn't smile, though, so the face he pulls is entirely illegible.

'How awful it is: that, after all this time, you still breathe.'

Stopping in your tracks, you keep an eye on him. If he challenges you, then you're ready.

'I was hoping you might have died.'

Turning to face him properly, you walk over to where he sits, and look down at him. 'You wouldn't have come looking for me without a reason. Unless you're truly that bored.'

He chuckles dryly. Bitter and old. 'I am bored. So very bored. Life is aimless now. I have nothing left to lose, so, yes: I am truly that bored.'

'Why did you save my life?'

Not only does his face twitch, but so does his entire body. His eyes darken and he glares. 'I did no such thing. You must be dumber than I originally thought. You were merely in my way. Not to mention, you were losing miserably. I had to step in.'

You're unconvinced. Frowning, you remain standing.

If he has come to see you, he'll eventually break. His motives will become clear soon enough.

Fortunately, that doesn't take long. Because he rises to his feet and smiles coldly. 'Then your hero came along; she did the saving.' Something snaps inside you; you do not like the way he refers to her. 'I dare to imagine how you thanked her––'

'Fine. Well, if there is nothing, then I shall leave.' You're about to swivel around, but he grabs your shoulder. Hard.

'Don't walk away from me.' His face is ugly. Bony and pale. You have seen worse; you aren't afraid. Not of a pathetic man. 'What has that crazed woman revealed to you? Anything in regards to her work, or has she kept her mouth shut?'

'I'm glad you asked,' you scowl. 'She has been requesting your presence.'

'Has she? I suppose it is safe to assume you're going to get something out of this.'

'Yes.' He chuckles, shaking his head. You don't let down your guard. 'You come with me, and I'll take you to her. Once she has you, then she'll tell me everything that I need to know.'

Cyrus guffaws. His hand slips off your shoulder. 'Gladly. Why not?'

'You seem oddly compliant.'

He smirks. Again, it's dead. But his eyes glimmer with a distant enthusiasm. 'Lead the way. I'll trail on behind––as always.' A shiver travels up your spine at that passing remark.

But you guide him anyway. It is unnerving, having his eyes watch your back; only less than a metre behind you. Cyrus is a chilling creature. And while he may be a lost man now, that doesn't mean he can't crush your neck between his hands.

It wouldn't take much. To grab you and throttle you to death.

Even so, you wouldn't back down without a fight.

However, despite your paranoia, he doesn't attack. In fact, he remains cooperative, to the point where it is suspicious.

You call in ahead, and by the time you both arrive at the police station, Grey has been put into the same interrogation room. Now that Rowan is not with you, there is some difficulty in trying to charm the officers. They recognise Cyrus, of course, but, fortunately, he is no longer on the wanted list, and so they don't refuse him access.

Only if you go in with him.

That, you are happy with. The last thing you want to do is leave Cyrus unaccompanied.

He still wears that strange smile. He might as well have taken a drug to make him delirious; he appears oblivious to everything that is going on around him. When both of you enter the interrogation room, Grey smiles, first at you, then at Cyrus.

'Ah. You saw sense, finally.'

You open your mouth to speak, but Cyrus cuts through. His voice has deepened significantly. 'Let us make this one quick.'

Grey's expression hardens. 'Very well.' Both you and Cyrus sit down opposite her. You note the handcuffs, the fact she cannot escape, and yet, you're uneasy. You glance between Cyrus and Grey while they communicate. 'Do you remember Charon?'

Cyrus snorts. 'Reluctantly.'

'I agree: he wasn't the most inspiring of people, but he did have grand ideas. Your favourites, Mars and Jupiter, were willing to work for him after you left, but Charon isn't a leader. This one here––' she grins at you, '––made sure of that.'

'Get to the point.'

'Work with me, Cyrus. Our ideas and Charon's combined? We could bring Galactic back to full force, but only better. More supreme.'

You stand to your feet. 'I did not bring Cyrus all the way here for you to talk rubbish.'

'Oh, Dawn. I was about to offer you a wild job opportunity as well. You see, for my plans to go ahead, I require a bodyguard. No, not just a bodyguard––I need a soldier. Somebody willing to guard me while I produce my works. Who can barricade the labs. With your calibre and your beautiful Pokemon, you could achieve so much––let me help you achieve that.'

It's a very simple decision to make. You even laugh, it's that easy. 'I think you've been left alone for too long; you've let common sense run off without you. I'm not joining you. Ever.'

Grey sniggers. 'The money.' Now she looks at Cyrus. 'A fortune. Millions. People will worship us. We will become Gods. Cyrus, join me.' She exhales. 'And we can get rid of this little muffin while we're at it.'

Cyrus looks up at you, raising a brow. You gape at him. No, he wouldn't!

Inhaling sharply, you glare over at Grey. 'And the labs? You were going to tell me where they were!'

'Yeah.' Grey clears her throat. 'There aren't any labs, Dawn. I made it all up. My research is all tucked up away––' she taps her head, '––in here.'

The door opens from behind, and two police officers step inside. 'Both of you, out. This discussion is finished.'

Grey grins. 'True: it has just finished.' She glances at Cyrus; at you. 'Gods.'

Then Cyrus stands as well, and you look at him, expecting him to leave. You hope he leaves, but then he looks at you as well, and for the first time, you see hesitance. He's thinking, and when Cyrus is thinking, you know that is never a positive sign.

Red light flashes the room, and an ear-splitting roar causes you to nearly drop to your knees.

A huge, elegant and powerful pocket monster lunges for the two police officers. Its claws dig deep into their flesh, and, before you're able to see properly again, it comes right at you. Instinctively you reach for Infernape, releasing it from its Pokeball. Immediately your Infernape jumps at the other Pokemon and tries to hit it.

But a storm of fire is sent in its direction. Infernape screams and thuds at your feet.

Then you see the Pokemon properly.

'I'm sorry, Dawn,' Cyrus says. 'It was an offer I could not refuse. Entei, destroy the building: get us out of here.'

Entei. You have only heard about this Pokemon in Legends!

Heart in your mouth, you reach for your next Pokemon. Cyrus grabs you first, and you see Grey smirking out of the corner of your eye when Cyrus shoves you into the wall. What happens next causes your skin to singe, and your eyes to water. Brick tumbles around you, and you hear voices, wails, and the smell of smoke enters your nostrils.

Falling to the floor, you grab Infernape's paw, and hide your face. The building is knocked down around you, and yet you are untouched. It doesn't take long. Once the roof is cleared and the walls are demolished, you're able to look up.

Dust causes you to cough and splutter. You blink twice, and try to regain sight.

Cyrus is still where he originally was. Grey has managed to free herself from the handcuffs, and you witness the damage. Slowly standing to your feet, it feels as if the world has tumbled around you. Civilians stare at the mess, and once laying eyes on Entei, they yell out and flee. Just like that, Cyrus regains his authority again and you want to be sick.

This is your doing.

'We'll be off!' Grey exclaims chirpily. 'We have everything we need. Nothing else to do here.'

Anger boils within your belly. You pull at the scruff of her collar before she can disappear. You underestimate your strength, because, somehow, you manage to push the woman onto the brick. She knocks her head against the hard surface.

You grab your next Pokeball.

'I'm not letting you go anywhere.'

Entei growls only a few inches from you. You can feel its wrath, and your heart thuds heavily. You don't dare look at the thing. Grey rubs the back of her head, sneering, but it is Cyrus who steps forward. He looks at you calmly, like he did the first time you both met, and you just wish, then and there, you had never met this devil.

You wish he was never born.

'How about we finally end this? One last battle.'

You hate him. You hate him. 'Haven't you learnt anything yet? You're weak.'

His upper lip twitches. 'I have caught one of the most powerful Pokemon in the world. Your silly monkey stands no chance.'

'The power of a Pokemon weighs nothing in comparison to the bond both a trainer and Pokemon share. If your Entei feels nothing for you, then it is simply inferior.'

'Would you like to put that to the test?'

'I would love to.'

Grey scrambles to her feet. Blood trickles down the back of her neck from where she was knocked. 'Let's put you against the both of us––see who's inferior then.' As if they've shared silent communication, Cyrus passes over his own Pokeball towards her.

Irritated, you hold your ground. 'Fine: if it takes two of you to get past me, then so be it.'

'Cocky.' Grey throws Cyrus' Pokeball up in the air. From within escapes his Houndoom. In person, you've never liked the look of these things, but you maintain your composure. Right now, there isn't time to endure fear.

You release your Garchomp. Today, it is cooperative, and registers the significance of this battle. Smoke huffs out of its nostrils, and it readies itself. Cyrus has a sort of fondness in his eyes, and you never thought at the age you are now that a Pokemon battle would scare you. Not like this. Not to the point where you're trying not to shiver.

'Let us begin then,' Cyrus says. 'See how pathetic your little friends are––'

A beam of ice shoots past your ear, and stabs Houndoom straight in the belly. The Pokemon is swooped off its feet and sent into the ground, a nasty bruise across its skin. Growling, the Houndoom returns to its original spot, although damaged.

'What the––?' Cyrus looks over at the sudden attack. His face falls. 'You cheat.'

'You did say we had begun.' Is there ever a time you're not just overjoyed to hear that voice? Peering over your shoulder, you pull a smile––half relieved, half grateful. Half everything else. Cynthia walks over to stand with you, her Milotic levitating a few inches ahead. 'Oh, I'm sorry. Did you need a moment?'

'Not at all. Entei, use Eruption.'

The earth beneath your feet starts to shake. Grey widens her eyes, and mirrors your surprise when the rock beneath Entei explodes like a volcano. A blast of flame and rock engulf Milotic in one, and it takes a good few seconds for the fire to vanish.

Shocked, you find the Milotic is still alive, but, despite being a water-type, it has been severely wounded.

'What was that you said about being inferior?' Cyrus smirks.

Livid, you point at the Houndoom. 'Garchomp, Earthquake!'

Cyrus's smirk drops.

'Surf,' Cynthia commands calmly.

Both of your Pokemon attack simultaneously, and it's a beautiful performance. The ground cracks, splitting at Houndoom's paws, and Entei is not only struck by the quake as well, but also the massive gush of water plummeted its way.

Grey has gone quiet, amazed. You don't waste a second. 'Crunch!'

Your dragon-type is obedient and its teeth dig into the Houndoom's thick flesh. It wails out and collapses, unconscious.

'Forget about it!' Cyrus orders Grey. 'Entei, Fire Blast! Finish her Milotic off!'

'Catch me if you can! Milotic, Ice Beam.'

Now their powers really are put to the test. Whether your logic is sound is still questionable, because when the ice and fire collide together, you watch in anticipation as to which move is going to triumph. Milotic is certainly pushed under the strain, but it has a good trainer, and it remains loyal, trying its hardest to maintain its Ice Beam.

The Entei, however, is weak. Its muscles tense under the weight of the fire and ice. Cyrus yells out, desperate, eyes wide, and brimming with emotion and agony––but the fire is extinguished, the Entei is hit, and the ice not only leaves it unconscious, but encases it in a cube of frozen water.

Cyrus has lost.

'No,' he whispers. 'No. You, you, you!' He storms past his Pokemon, and you think he's about to grab for you, but you gasp when his hands nearly come around Cynthia's neck. She's agile, and dodges his grip, but he is stronger. Frustrated, Cyrus pulls at her collar, and shoves her towards him. 'Why won't you just let me win?'

'Dragon Rush!' The command escapes your lips before you realise.

Cyrus is thrown off his feet. The impact is horrifying. He is flung upwards at a tremendous height, and his body is swallowed by heat––

Too quickly for you to see, Cynthia releases her Togekiss and it swoops up to catch his fall.

However it is a fruitless attempt.

The move itself was enough.

You're frozen. Terrified. You can't believe what you have just done, and you can't move. Your heart is pounding in your ears, and all you can think about is how his hands held her, how he spoke to her, how he tried to throttle her, and then and then and then––

––he had to die.

Everything that happens next is a blur. You can hear somebody talking to you, can feel a hand on your shoulder, somebody pushing you back, but all you can picture is Cyrus's dead body, and it nearly causes you to cry. Not because you're mortified, or upset, but because you're happy. You are happy he is gone. Finally.

And then you're pulled away from the scene. Officers take you further and further back, and you try to reach for Cynthia, but she's not close enough, and then you're shoved into the back of a vehicle and then––and then––it all hits.

Death and all of his friends.

The Pokemon Centre is empty. You have been sitting in the same place for over two hours, immobilised. Trying to think over everything that has happened, whether it was all a dream; something horrible. Whether you'll wake up, open your eyes, and there is sunlight pouring in through the open window. The picture of Ho-Oh, and Cynthia reading her book. You imagine all of that, and now, it all seems like fantasy.

Let it be a lie.

Your eyes catch sight of the PC.

The nurse is absent. The room is isolated. You don't feel, don't endure the sensation of your feet moving across the floor. Yet you reach your PC, turn it on, and withdraw the one Pokemon who has traumatised you all of these years.

Giratina is so small, so tiny, safely tucked in your palm.

Was this all Cyrus ever wanted? To hold this tiny creature in his hand? Was power all he ever craved? Lusted after?

You can see his face: bony and pale and pleading and desperate and clawing at her.

His voice itches your ears, makes them sore, and you hear each word:

why. oh why. why won't you let me win?

You scrunch your eyes shut.

Squeeze the Pokeball.

'Dawn?'

Breath escapes your parted lips. You lower the Pokeball, and brace yourself for the worst. In your eyes, Cynthia is too kind, too innocent, to comprehend what you have just committed. She must surely think less of you now.

Perhaps that's it. Everything that's happened will be fantasy.

It's all gone. Ruined.

You look at her, and that's a mistake. Your heart is pulled, and your throat narrows.

'What happened to Grey?' Your voice betrays you; it croaks, tears welling up in your eyes.

'In custody. No longer our concern. Actually, she wasn't our concern the first time she was placed in the officers' hands.'

You wipe your face with your hand. 'I thought––' But that's just it: you didn't. You hadn't thought. You didn't think. You didn't think. 'She was going to tell me where her labs were, but there weren't any. She only wanted Cyrus to manipulate him, and then I––' took his life. Killed him. You killed him, and that's that.

'Well, it's all over now.'

You nod.

And then burst into tears.

You can't see her face, how she's looking at you, because you're trying so hard to wipe away the tears, but they just keep coming. One after the next, dripping off your chin, trailing down your cheeks, and soon you're stained. You cry, and you cry loudly, and your whole body reacts violently. It's almost frightening how you respond; how everything has made you respond up to this point. Now everything tumbles, crashing.

She lets you cry, but she won't let you cry alone.

Her fingers dig into your jacket and she's going to hold you until you're okay; you know that. But you don't know if her holding you only makes it worse. You can't stop crying. You can't stop crying and it hurts. Just everything fucking hurts.

'Am I a bad person?' You splutter, roughly wiping your eyes.

She takes your hands, and you're forced to look at her. Your heart could break; the slightest word could shatter you, but she is a gentle spirit. She cradles you as if you were a jewel, a diamond, a pearl; she cradles you like you need to be cradled.

It may not be the last time you see water gathering in those grey orbs. But it's a startling, pretty picture and you can't look away.

'You're not bad. You can't ever be bad. You saved my life. That does not make you evil.' She kisses the corner of your mouth, and your breath catches. 'You made a mistake. I would have made the same mistake too.' She kisses your cheek. Your tears. Petals fluttering your skin. 'Your heart is too big; it's too full of kindness and joy to cling onto anything bad.'

And she's not going anywhere.

Satan's jaws could sink into your body, and, yet, still, you would be okay. Only knowing she was still holding your hand.

You have stopped crying.

Your body trembles, and you breathe erratically.

But you have stopped crying.

'It's all over now.'

You repeat those four words in your mind. Inhale.

It's over.

Stopped.

'Kiss me,' and she does.

Afterwards, it's as if the world wishes to clear away previous events and forget. You are not charged of murder; you acted out of self defence, and have multiple witnesses. In fact, no one really touches on Cyrus's death––it's accepted. Nothing more. There's no sadness or joy; there's nothing. He might as well have been dead all along.

The police station is a wreck; brick scattered, dust still coating the skies. Entei has been taken away, as well as Cyrus's Houndoom. Grey is to be locked away for good. It's all finished, and yet, to you, this is only the start. You feel out of place; you feel like your body has deserted its soul. Roaming the atmosphere, aimless and wandering.

Professor Oak wishes to meet with you at Sangdem. You're out of energy to argue.

So you let him speak.

'I was tempted. I wanted what she wanted, but I always knew I couldn't follow through with it. She was corrupt. She was asking for too much. And, really, all I care about is my research. My Pokemon. How can I be a Professor of Pokemon if I spend my time researching on the things she was creating? They weren't Pokemon, as much as they seemed like they were. No… No, I really couldn't follow through with it. It was incorrect. I should have stopped her when I could have, but I was helpless. I'm sorry you had to deal with her instead. I'm sorry for all of this.'

A Hoothoot is calling into the night.

Its voice echoes, and it's haunting, beautiful, and so very alone.

The moonlight catches the blinds and its ray keeps you awake. You stare up at the ceiling, and the seconds pass. The minutes. The hours. You can still see him, his smirk, his rotting eyes. You can still see him standing at the Lake, you both wound up together by fate, having no idea that you would both come to destroy each other.

You think through it all. All of those years as a young trainer, the end of Galactic, and then running away.

You think about your supposed freedom. Think about Red. His reluctant smile.

And you feel your heart.

Beating.

Beating.

Beating.

The night which holds you to sleep.

A guardian of your own. Watching, but not always intervening. A distant, passing observer. The rare sunlight which peeks through the clouds. A rain of glee; perfection in the most fragile form. You think about what makes you smile, what counts; you think about how your heart beats, how you continue to breathe, how the clocks still tick.

How the world is as it is.

Still.

You turn on the bedside lamp.

'Cynthia…?'

Squinting, and rubbing her eye with her hand, she murmurs a 'mmyeah?'

'I love you.'

She pauses. Moves her hand out of the way. Looks at you through squinted, tired, light eyes. Dazed and half-asleep, you're mesmerised, and nothing has appeared more enchanting.

And then she smiles.

Happy. Knowing.

And her eyes smile with her lips, and then the world smiles back.

'C'mere.'

You slide over to where she lies, and snuggle into her.

Warm, soft, safe.

Quiet.

'I love you, too, Dawn. I always have.'